It attends to the occult residue of function
This work does not remember.
It encounters.
What is present here is not the past as image or story, but the after-pressure of action—the way a space continues to behave long after intention has withdrawn. These rooms, windows, counters, and thresholds do not recall events; they retain orientations. They are trained by repetition. They lean toward what once occurred.
Phenomenologically, these sites are not empty. They are over-determined. The body recognises this before the mind does. Light falls into grooves it did not carve. Objects remain poised for gestures that will not arrive. The atmosphere thickens where use once accumulated, where time folded itself into habit.
This is not nostalgia. Nostalgia softens, warms, forgives.
This work refuses that comfort.
Instead, it attends to the occult residue of function—the way labour, waiting, transaction, and minor rituals imprint themselves invisibly. The reception desk still receives. The chair still anticipates weight. The glass still mediates permission. These spaces operate as if belief has drained away but the ritual remains active.
In occult terms, these are charged sites without doctrine. No myth, no gods—only repeated action, sedimented into matter. The magic here is low-level and involuntary: the spell of routine, the invocation of “again,” the quiet compulsion to stand where others stood, to look through glass as others looked.
The images behave like thresholds. They do not offer narrative entry; they withhold it. Reflections fracture presence. Interiors repel intimacy. Shadows move independently of bodies. Time does not flow forward here—it pools, stains, and evaporates unevenly.
What is chased is not memory, but trace.
Not story, but orientation.
Not emotion recalled, but emotion activated without origin.
These works sit in the gap between perception and meaning, where the viewer becomes aware of their own act of looking—of standing in a place that feels already occupied by something that cannot be named. A haunting without a ghost. A ritual without a belief system. A site that continues to work on you, long after its purpose has expired.
This is not about what happened.
It is about what still happens, quietly, when no one is supposed to be there.
